Mirror Image
by Angelfirenze
Summary: Jimmy badly needs a shave.  Steve could use a little more growth under his left ear, it'd help to cover the carnage.  A shield in so many ways.  Extremely peripheral character POV.
1. Part I: Raised By Wolves

**Mirror Image...**  
><em>By Angelfirenze<em>

**Disclaimer: **Abbott, Paul, prod. "Shameless (US)." Shameless. Showtime. SHO, 27 Mar. 2011. Television. The Decemberists. "The King Is Dead.". Capitol, 2011.

**Summary: **Jimmy badly needs a shave. Steve could use a little more growth under his left ear, it'd help to cover the carnage. A shield in so many ways.

**Timeline: **Post-'Father Frank, Full of Grace'.

**Notes - First: **I was listening to 'Dear Avery' by The Decemberists on repeat this morning to calmly get myself through something and now that I'm writing, it's just coming to me as exactly what I want said between these two people as these events unfold. All is not lost.

**Notes - Second: **Since we don't and might not ever know Steve's family's names or real ones or whatever will unfold, I'm giving Jimmy Lishman's brother one for now, possibly always.

**Notes - Third: **A tiny little bit of fun (or is it mockery at this point?) is had with, while it is no longer my favorite show (or rather, the show I know and loved no longer exists, a sad caricature, _doppelgänger_ in its place), what will always be my favorite fandom because the characters' original selves are rather like watching the reverse of Jimmy becoming 'Steve'. A sad, lonely wasting away and a loss of potential. Funny how there's a James on both shows. Anyway.

**Notes - Fourth: **Because I couldn't resist, I am a Michigander, we call the university 'U of M', so it's a real stretch for me to call it 'UMich'. I concede for realism and because, since I know better, I wouldn't force my senses on anyone who reads this. Finally, on with the show.

Part I: Raised By Wolves, Weaned on Blood - James

_Oh, Avery...To think of you lonely, would I could just grab you by the nape of your neck..._

To hear the whole story, Thom had to hear it right there, then, deep in the night (though he resisted the urge to smack Jimmy for wanting to crawl into bed and just sleep, the wounds, both visible and not, that he already sported were punishment well enough, he believed) and consistently shook and tapped at Jimmy's shoulders - he wouldn't touch his face, his lip had split twice already and being an older brother and playing a role, he couldn't bring himself to inflict more damage, more pain on the brother he'd lost already, loved so much.

He will stay awake, mustering consciousness from his brother every few hours for the next day or so, ask him neuro questions, because he'll be damned if Jimmy hemorrhages to death in his sleep in the house of doctors, crazed ones or no.

He rinsed out the white washcloth over and over, wincing every time at the dark brown flakes, the bright sirens of the new spillage, and hated the man who did this to his baby brother.

But he had to get everything out of Jimmy if they were going to try to fix this and to do that, Thom had to keep him awake. Force he couldn't muster any other time, it seemed.

Once it was all there in the air, breathed in like so much smog (or was it simply steam, the sheer love and relief despite everything?) and Jimmy had dropped into a dead sleep, blood again leaking from an irritated scrape on his cheek into his pillow, ignored by them both for the time being.

Thom wiped at Jimmy's face again and again, sitting back as he still stared at the hastily packed bags Jimmy had brought home with him.

Baggage that clearly said 'Steve', no last name, no ties to anything but this mysterious _Fiona_whose entire being was sung in his little brother's lovelorn tears. Thom couldn't help but think of clichés such as Romeo and Juliet and other endlessly trod-out literature as he watched Jimmy sleep.

Thom sat back against his brother's bureau, the handles scraping him and keeping him awake even if his thoughts hadn't, and thought about this new person he'd carved out for himself, this _Steve_.

It was like, it seemed, a costume Jimmy could put on and take off when needed, to be who...this family now drifting on the edges of his consciousness (oddly enough, he now recalled little Debbie, though everything in him wanted to call her something like 'Snack Cake' except that she was far too straight-forward, only a little too 'kiss my ass' for anything so maudlin as that)...needed him to be.

He thinks now that Jimmy, his little brother Jimmy who'd tailed after him, trying to be everything he was, but never good enough for size or age or just wanting a different direction in life...had always wanted to be needed, but no one had ever needed him. Not the way every Lishman expected. Patients and charts and diseases and cures and surgeries and...and this wasn't House, or E.R. This was a twisted St. Elsewhere, this dark Underland they stepped into every time they entered this house or any hospital.

There is no magic in medicine for Jimmy or even their father, he knows, anymore.

Rote and habit, going to work, riding the rails, coming home, drifting through life...Thom knows now, without a doubt, that it's the last thing he truly wants for his brother.

Knows now, without a doubt, given time to think.

Thom spent the night on Jimmy-Steve's polished bedroom floor, watching his baby brother sleep and at times reaching for the luggage tag and reading the hastily scribbled moniker, black on the white.

He remembered that, at some point, Steve mentioned a paternity test had been run for Fiona's little brothers (four of them, he almost can't believe it) and, ostensibly, herself and Debbie, and finding that their 'mysteriously' brown littlest brother, Liam - Steve talked about feeding Liam with a bottle once before taking him to a rather nutty, but undeniably lovable woman the family knew named Sheila Jackson, who was like another version of their mother, but hadn't needed the same drugs to be less demanding, more...well, now far too loving for either of their comfort.

But while Jimmy ran away, simply and with ease, Thom felt the walls of this house press in on him and the heaviness of shackles he couldn't see, let alone remove, no matter how hard he looked or tried.

He felt for this Fiona and he's never seen her face outside of an electronic photograph, never heard her voice.

_...There are times life will rattle your bones and will bend your limbs, but you're still far and away the boy you've ever been, so you bend back and shake at the frame, of the frame you made (but don't you shake alone)...Please, Avery, come home..._

Thom was getting away with himself.

Liam Gallagher was a little brown question mark-turned-period in a family of pink periods-turned-exclamation marks. Fiona was Irish, they'd all been and always knew that, still were. That they were Black, that One-Drop Rule he'd read about in his American History class at UMich. They hadn't known that. When they did, life still went on. Deals made, food stole away onto the table.

Thom honestly wonders what their father would say if he knew. But Jimmy had pulled out a picture he and Fiona had taken on a 'down the middle of the road' date they'd managed to come up with, after the guy Kev told Jimmy he was embarrassing himself, talking about massages with a 'hood girl'.

Jimmy had taken her to a Barnes and Noble and told her to pick out any books she really wanted, anything on the menu at the food bar, and taken pictures with his camera phone of her 'not looking like a lady'. The smile Thom had seen blossom through the bloody, smashed mess that had been made of Jimmy's face told him that had been one of the best evenings of his life.

He'd said she'd said that a week earlier when he'd snuck them both into the honeymoon suite of the Hilton and presented her with her favorite hot sandwich and French fries.

_"I'm not gonna look like a lady."_

Thom could see she'd never stopped, not to Jimmy.

A recounting of the first time he'd ever seen her in photographic detail. Watching her later wield a baseball bat on the way up the stairs of her house the day that the missing Casey Casden (he remembers he'd seen the boy on an Amber Alert) turned up in her only sister and baby brother's bedroom with all the power of a major-league player.

Neither had any illusion she couldn't knock their teeth out with that bat and keep on going without breaking stride.

But 'Steve' had given into temptation and taken the bat from her, giving Liam to her, needing again to be needed, to protect. To be everything.

Thom doesn't think _his_baby boy, there, realized when 'Steve' became the real Jimmy and 'Jimmy' became the fake Steve. Or when Jimmy stopped being a 'baby brother'.

But to know this cop, this tyrant Officer Tony Markovitch, obsessed with Fiona to the point of breaking not only the law, but his metamorphosis of a brother's face, is taking away everything _Steve_worked for, that Jimmy worked for to give Fiona a world outside what her parents consigned her to, to help her escape the way he has.

The way Thom still wishes he had the balls to do, himself, instead of cowering yet and still before their father, even through a broken leg later proven to be late-stage leukemia that the old bastard thankfully refuses chemotherapy for ('a waste of my time and my fucking money, just give me my goddamned cast and let me go the fuck home!')...it makes Thom sick to his stomach and he's surprised when he doesn't vomit as he again takes in the purpling, swollen dark redness all over Jimmy's face that he couldn't even show Fiona.

Seeing too much, not hiding enough. It doesn't comfort him that even as this superhero, Jimmy still can't bring himself to throw off every bind. He, too, sat aside as Frank Gallagher lay out cold on the kitchen floor, even as he made Little Miss Snack Cake (well, maybe in Thom's own head) and her family a pilfered breakfast.

There was mention of therapy for Little Miss Snack Cake, but not for Killer Carl, who sounds like Thom wouldn't want to meet him in an alley and the kid's only eight...or is he nine, now? Holy shit.

Certainly no rehab for Frank, but Steve would still snatch him again and put him in Canada the second he touched any of Steve's little brothers or sister-in-law (in his not a baby brother's own head, he knows this for certain) ever again, completely willing to lose Fiona if it meant her safety and theirs.

Watching their mother dive face-first into sedatives and tranqulizers and not having the fucking _balls_to hide the damned things, to force her into rehab...but knowing that the alternative is a return to the cold, stone hardness of before.

A return from Too Much Mother to Not Mother, But A Heartless Bitch. He shakes as he thinks of it and resolves to take the pills another day, yet again.

("Yeah, 'cause he's got a family that he doesn't give a shit about!" "What my family is, what my father is, has fuck all to do with you!")

Frank sober, however, seems to be a human carnival ride, and Thom thinks the man is bipolar, but his degree isn't in Psychology, so he'd be forced merely to refer to someone else (thankfully) if he ever met the man. He hopes he never does, in his heart of hearts, but if he's going to be brave for the first time in his life and do for his brother what Debbie and Lip and Fiona all do for theirs, then he just might.

Thom clenches his fists and tries to prepare. He cannot go running in the other direction. Certainly not when he meets Markovitch. And he_will_meet the son of a bitch who stole his brother's house and spilled his blood, Thom's blood. The only that he truly has.

He now knows that Candace is but a façade and the thought does little to bother him. She's a vapid, hollow covergirl, the Denise to Fiona's...Fiona ("So I told her, 'You're not fake, you don't need saving...'"). Hell, he needs better metaphors, but he gives himself a little mercy for working a sixteen-hour shift and then coming home to this...situation, but refuses to blame Jimmy for any of it. This was all Thom's choice. He couldn't make any different.

Jimmy badly needs a shave. Steve could use a little more growth under his left ear, it'd help to cover the carnage. A shield in so many ways.

Thom ran his hands through his hair and wipes his bare mouth again, knowing the lipstick is gone, but still feeling it on his skin where his own mother practically made out with him when he came home. Thom was disgusted, repulsed, mortified, but too afraid of this new situation to do anything.

He thinks of _Steve's_ words to Markovitch (_"How long have you been stealing cars?" "As long as I've been fucking Fiona!"_) thinks of Jimmy talking about telling Debbie that the animals they were raised by weren't dragged in by the cops, drunk and raving, their pants covered in piss and vomit...no, theirs went to Harvard.

They didn't get drunk, they got _tipsy_. They didn't hit their children, but they still managed to scare them shitless just by existing.

Jimmy told Thom that Little Miss Snack Cake leaves coffee next to her father's head for when he awakens from his nightly coma in the morning.

Jimmy told Thom that Frank has left them before and left them again, to go live with the Jackson woman and her daughter, whom his son is fucking even though they insist they're only best friends. Jimmy told Thom 'Lip' and Karen are clearly in love and Thom thought, _look who's talking, wiseass_. Then again, Jimmy and Fiona _definitely_aren't friends.

For some weird reason, it reminds him of that show, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and some guy saying, "You're not friends, you'll never be friends! You'll be in love until it kills you both!"

But love hasn't killed Jimmy. This is the most alive Thom's seen his brother in years, if ever. If that love is for a woman and another family, then so be it.

Not that Thom knows much about love, himself, he thinks. He realizes there's something Little Jim Jims has finally shown him up in. Their father always said that a man becomes one when he falls in love for the first time. And Jimmy beat him to it by miles. A grown man at twenty-three when Thom's nearly thirty and truly still a damned boy.

He doesn't know these Gallaghers, Debbie still included, but they saved his brother, even if they don't know it. And they certainly don't know any of Thom's 'family', not really. Thom doesn't think Jimmy counts as a Lishman anymore.

He's a Steve, No Last Name. He's freer than Thom will ever be, no longer a Lishman. No longer enslaved. If they get married one day, Thom hopes Jimmy - no, _Steve_takes Fiona's name. It would only be right, in his mind. Fiona and Steve Gallagher.

He's thinking too much.

But Debbie's the only Gallagher any Lishman aside from Jimmy has met. Thom has a feeling she thinks they're all crazy. Thom has a feeling she's perfectly correct.

He thinks Debbie's too young for what she's seen, but then what does that make them? Make Thomas and James Lishman?

Thom can't deny in his heart that he's more glad to see Jimmy than words can properly express but, at the same time, wants nothing more than to send Jimmy back out into the world to be Super!Steve and never come back.

Thom sits until well past noon, knowing their parents won't find them, won't look, watches _Steve_sleep in the mandated shifts, and plots.

He knows first and foremost, he needs to meet this Phillip Gallagher. No, not Phillip. Lip. Lip Gallagher, whom Jimmy would give anything to see go to UChicago because he's never seen a kid so smart deserve it more.

Lip first. Everything would fold out from there.

_But you were my Avery and when you needed saving, I could just grab you by the nape of your neck..._

**...TBC...**


	2. Part II: Who's Asking You To?

**Mirror Image...**  
><em>By Angelfirenze<em>

**Disclaimer: **Abbott, Paul, prod. "Shameless (US)." Shameless. Showtime. SHO, 27 Mar. 2011. Television. Bayside. "Shudder.". Victory, 2008. Eminem, Bizarre. "Marshall Mathers LP.". Aftermath, Interscope, 2000.

**Summary:** But that look on Thom's face, one he's never seen of utter vindication and even dangerous protection _for him_...he's never felt_this_ at home in _this_house until he saw that expression.

**Timeline: **Post-'Father Frank, Full of Grace'.

**Notes, First: **Okay, this went where it wanted to. Different songs, this time, even.

**Notes, Second: **The Lishman house, in my mind, is inspired by the house Augusten Burroughs and John Elder Robison, Sr., grew up in, in Amherst, Massachusetts. In so many ways...

Part II: Who's Asking You To? - Thomas

_...My mom always said I was named for a saint, but I've never felt I was blessed..._

It's two more days before Steve can pull himself out of bed and he's still not used to being back in his old bedroom, away from Fiona, away from Lip, Ian, Debbie, Carl, baby Liam...but here he is, back in the hellhole...only, it's not so bad as before, is it?

His brother, a frat boy buffoon he remembers so well is suddenly a watchful, caring stranger wearing his brother's skin like a suit. He doesn't know this person, but - then - Thom doesn't know him anymore, does he?

He'd expected, as he'd told Thom everything over the past year since he dropped out, that Thom would immediately start railing, start sniping and bitching about how he's thrown his life away...but there's none of that.

All there is, is Thom waking him every three to four hours (Steve can immediately see Thom hasn't slept in God only knows how long and immediately feels guilty for the frat boy thought earlier), but there was only patience, silence and stillness excepting nods and - when he got to the part with Tony snatching him into his patrol car - Steve saw a look on Thom's face that could have killed - his name is James.

He can't be Steve here, it's all a lie, and nothing drives that home more than suddenly being in a bedroom easily five times the size of Fiona's closet-cum-room - her safe cave where he, nevertheless, felt so at home, so safe. They'd made love, but Liam would still play under the covers because he didn't know any better, being only two.

But Steve - James Lishman is the youngest here, in this cavern of a house, and the rage he saw flit across Thom's face ever so briefly when he talked about buying that house for Fiona where she could still be with her brothers and sister and Debbie's request for a bridge between the two because she'd known he could afford it and because they all needed it...Tony taking the whole thing away, these Gallaghers and V and Kev who'd welcomed him, and for the first time in his life, James Lishman could understand love of family, friendship of brothers (,sisters,) and neighbors.

They have no neighbors. The Lishman house is surrounded on all sides by land, the very edge of which had either water or trees to block out the world.

Once, so long ago he barely remembers the feeling, he used to feel very safe here. But that was before he realized his parents were just thisside of psychotic and began to worry that he'd end up like them, drowning their unhappiness in _acceptable_ drugs, an _acceptable_amount of alcohol.

Steve doesn't get high and doesn't drink often. A fast car, a successful heist was so much more fulfilling...until he saw the look on Thom's face when he talked about the ring and all the subterfuge, worst of all, the lying to Fiona about even his name.

_...So don't take out frustration on your body, that junk will make you sorry...I'm taking my last stand, and to think they almost got me, too..._

Two days later and he still can't get that look out of his admittedly broken head. Thom told him while flashing a penlight in his eyes that he has a concussion and will not - there was no room for argument, this was his older brother, the one who actually had the guts to make it through medical school hell and not run away from his responsibilities (Steve - James realizes he's run away from his own now, having taken responsibility for the Gallaghers and then run out on them, on _Fiona_, no better than Frank...he's no better than Frank fucking Gallagher) - be doing anything approaching strenous until his pupils are the same size once more, until the bruising and cuts on his face recede.

He will eat what Thom gives him for now, propped up on his pillows, a breakfast tray across his lap after a badly needed shower (Thom ordered him firmly not to wash his hair immediately, that he'd take care of that) and back into bed.

It isn't until he lays back and is again trying to stave off sleep that he realizes that Thom never actually once condemned him, still calls him 'Jimmy', not 'thief', and - the particularly unbelievable part considering his feelings and actions of the past year - carefully went through Jimmy's scalp, searching for cuts, abrasions, hissing with something between sympathy and anger when he found what he was looking for, a low-lying lump the size of a palm hidden by Jimmy's hair, split in the middle and caked with blood.

Thom sat back, his face pale as he stripped off his latex gloves and gently pulled Jimmy into a sitting position before peeling back the covers and slowly lifting Jimmy into a standing position and calmly told Jimmy to redress, that they were getting into Thom's car, not the one Jimmy brought. That one Thom would be having towed by a friend. "Don't expect to see it again, dumbass."

Jimmy nodded and his head was on strings, but Thom stopped him immediately, "You're making it worse. Cut it the fuck out."

St - Jimmy had swallowed, trying to blink unsuccessfully and clear his left eye to no avail. He knew better, but couldn't seem to stop. Thom frowned further and turned to dig around in Jimmy's bureau for clean clothing. A sweater, t-shirt, jeans, and snow boots slowly pulled on later, Thom is shrugging Jimmy's coat onto his shoulders and Jimmy still can't figure out what's going on.

He realizes he can't think and is afraid. He doesn't remember much of the previous two days except for that one nightmare where his face crashed into the driver's seat of Tony's car. He doesn't remember what either of them said, but can't find it in himself to be anything but afraid, still. He wishes Fiona were here, but...

Thom snapped his fingers in Jimmy's face, bringing him to the present. "Move. Get walking. Now." Thom is calm, gentle, but dead serious.

But that look on Thom's face, one he's never seen of utter vindication and even dangerous protection _for him_...he's never felt _this_ at home in _this_house until he saw that expression.

Thom puts the address of the house Steve bought in his GPS and herds Jimmy into his passenger seat and Jimmy is staring, but Thom ignores that, ignores his incredulity.

It isn't until they're standing in front of V and Kev's house, an hour and a half later, the night sky cloaking them and Jimmy can't help but duck over to Thom's other side, blocking his house with Fiona out of his view with Thom, that Thom knows they're in the right place.

_...No matter what transpires, your will can take you higher now..._

Jimmy watches Thom blink with some startlement as _Veronica_- woken abruptly, but all-business once she saw the state of his face, after Thom described the bruise and laceration on his scalp, and Thom's rather surprised at the efficient way she orders the guy he can only guess is Kevin to get various medical supplies, and all the while is bitching at Jimmy in rapid-fire pace about how he's been missing and what the fuck is wrong with him who the fuck is this oh, your brother, oh, well good the fuck for you, asshole, Fiona's crying her eyes out, and she's in love with you, you dick, so you better have a fuckin' damned good excuse or whoever did this'll look like a fuckin' amateur.

Thom watches with surprised approval at how well Veronica slowly, painstakingly stitches his brother's scalp back together, numbing the area as she goes along, and, afterward, injects liquid ibuprofen into the surrounding area to ward off the headache Thom knows has been plaguing Jimmy even through his utter exhaustion.

When Veronica is done, she asks where the tickets are and Jimmy fumbles with his coat for a moment before she takes it upon herself to dig around in his pockets, extracting the envelopes and using a pair of kitchen scissors to cut up the first-class plane tickets to God only knows where.

"You ain't goin' nowhere, dumbass," Veronica says decisively before finally sizing Thom up. "Who the hell are you? You from that house Debbie dragged me to, talkin' about Steve bein' some Jimmy crap?"

Steve winces before sighing, "She was, um, she's right - Debbie. I didn't mean to say 'Steve', but, um...uh..."

"You're fucking concussed, shut the hell up, dipshit," Kev cuts in, now dressed in the bathrobe Jimmy vaguely remembers seeing at some point while in Fiona's kitchen. Kev looks at Thom, "You - who the hell are you and are you his fuckin' brother or what?"

"Dr. Thomas Lishman," Thom says professionally and Jimmy winces, but everyone ignores him until V is staring at him with eyes so wide, he knows that if she hadn't just finished patching him up, she'd be putting her foot up his ass right then.

"Doctor? Are you a - "

Jimmy starts to shake his head, but then becomes dizzy so both Thom and V stop him and he gasps, "I dropped out. I ha - hated it. Thom knows now."

"Well, shit, and here I came up with all that internet startup shit that Kev totally believed..."

"Why the hell do you do that?"

"Your _face_!"

This is obviously an old argument and is cut off quickly as V turns away and Kev presumably goes back to bed after kissing the top of her head.

"So, _Jimmy_- " And all Jimmy can do is wince again, but V's tone is conversational, not 'I'm about to knock your ass out', so he forces himself to try to concentrate. "You plan on tellin' Fiona that any time soon?"

"I...I..."

_...And a big mistake you didn't know you made, see if you can take it back..._

"Who's Tony Markovitch?" Thom interjects and Jimmy winces again, the butterfly Band-Aid on his mouth catching the small drop of blood that fills it as a result.

V's eyebrow raises in that oh-so-familiar way, "Tony? Cop around here, Opie's ass been in love with Fiona since Head Start, goes on about that shit all the time. She wants this dumbass, not him."

"Do you happen to know his badge number, by any chance?" Thom is asking in a business-like manner now and V's obviously taken aback.

Then it hits her and she looks back at St-Jimmy again, this time her mouth getting into the act by dropping open. Then she hushes up, her face becoming death on a platter. "Tony did this to you?"

"After I let Lip borrow the - "

"Stolen car that got him and Ian busted, you asshole," she interrupts and Jimmy can only raise his hands in supplication.

"I'm sorry. I'm...I'm so sorry I gave Lip that car - he asked for it, wanted to take Karen to see Florence + the Machine, I-I think."

"So you couldn't give him _your_car?"

"His car's at home," Thom's glaring at Jimmy now and as if he wasn't in enough shit, apparently Kev went off, got dressed, and called Fiona, who comes busting through their front door, murder in her eyes.

But V, Kev, and Thom all fend her off, saying he's already fucked up, he wasn't thinking straight, his head's all busted up, and Fiona bursts in the tears he hates and Jimmy wants more than anything to die, to fall through the stairs outside, breaking his neck for certain. To finish what Tony started and bash his own head in with a rock.

He's a fucking son of a bitch moron.

But then she's got her arms around him and she's sobbing into the bandage V wrapped around his head at the end of her homemade ER visit and St - Jimmy wraps his arms around her and before he knows it, he's crying, too.

Even more abruptly, every one of _his family_is busting through the back door to V and Kev's kitchen and even Liam's on Debbie's hip and Ethel and her son Jonah or Joey or whatever the hell the kid's name is - she's coming out of the back of the hallway to the front of this house with him on her shoulder.

"Where the hell have you been?" Lip is demanding, tilting his head at Jimmy's bandaged head and Carl gives him a poke before V yanks him away.

Jimmy feels the stares of everyone around him and can't help but cry some more.

"Stop crying, you pussy, and tell us where the hell you've been," Lip snaps and Jimmy sighs wetly.

"I was going to...I went home, I had to. T..." Jimmy looks up at Thom, whose face is absolute granite and it'll be his ass if he doesn't get this out now.

"Tony caught me and be-beat the crap out of me, threatened to...uh, he..." Jimmy's head isn't pounding anymore, but he's still dizzy as shit, so he leans against the kitchen table and puts his forehead down on the cool wood beneath him. It feels amazing, but not nearly as much as Fiona next to him.

But then she's backing away and before Jimmy can stop himself, he's staring up at her again.

"Tony beat you up?" her face is pale, that angry disbelief she's so good at showing back on her face.

"Said he was going to take you away from me and toss me in jail if I didn't leave. I didn't know Debbie and V had gone to my house - this is my brother, he said our mother met Debbie a couple of weeks ago."

Fiona is glaring daggers at Debbie now, but St - Jimmy stops her before she can start yelling. "She was just worried about you. When we first met, I...I didn't tell you my real name. I wanted to get away from that, get away from them..."

Jimmy's staring up at Thom now, but Thom's not angry. All there is, is understanding.

_...Time is upon us, be who you want to, be who you want to be...Keep moving forward, don't live in the corner, be who you want to be..._

Thom fills in, "Our parents are..."

"Fucking crazy," Jimmy's muttering before he can help it, his head tipping forward again. "I didn't mean to be 'Steve', but I...I ha-hated being Jimmy Lishman. I waited for you in the airport, but...you didn't come, Fiona, and I...I guess I knew you wouldn't, I wasn't surprised. Also, I went to the wrong airport..."

Jimmy's breathing deeply, inhaling his own carbon dioxide coming back from the wood below him, and it calms him. His heart finally stops racing and he finds he's actually glad.

"You thought I'd leave you because of some crazy parents?" Fiona asks quietly, gently pulling Jimmy's head back up again. There's still anger, but she's not chopping his head off with an axe, so he'll take it. "You've met my mental patients, you dick, how the hell worse could yours be?"

"I-I don't know anymore. I just...like Steve so much better than Jimmy. Jimmy's the pussy. Juicy pussy."

"What?" Fiona asks in confusion as Ian's reaching up to cover a grossed-out Debbie and a grinning Carl's ears along with V and Lip's covering Liam's.

"Tony concussed the shit out of him," Kev says idly, his chin in his hand as he sits on the counter next to where a horrified Ethel's standing with her own kid and she glances at him, but Fiona supposes she's getting used to all of it.

"What?" Fiona asks, her eyes snapping to Kev, and the death is back in her voice. Thom finds himself almost recoiling, glad he's not Markovitch, except for the part where he's planning on helping Fiona crack the fucker's skull in half, himself.

"Found me jacking...shoved me in his c-car - "

"I asked Jimmy if this Tony ever put him under arrest, but it appears he never wasted time with such trivialities."

"Carjacking's a federal offense," Lip says quietly, calmly, and Jimmy can only sigh.

But Thom continues calmly, himself, "And if he'd just put Jimmy under arrest and been done with it, we wouldn't be here. But instead, he threatened to kill Jimmy if he didn't leave this - this is The Back of the Yards? And then Jim offered up the house he bought you - "

Thom gestured gently to Fiona, who's blinking back angry tears that nevertheless stream down her face. "To keep from being killed and Tony apparently said some nonsense about how when Jimmy came back here you and he would be married - "

"Fuck that shit," Fiona snarls, her fists clenched so hard, they're completely white. "Fuck him. I want his ass on a platter."

"As do I, which is why we came here. He's accepting bribes, threatening murder, kidnapping, stalking, assault and battery, and he seems to think of you, Fiona, as some sort of trophy."

V, Debbie, and Fiona are now all but snarling now and Lip steps up, "He got my brother and I out of jail after the thing with the car. I can find out how if I talk to him - he doesn't know I know anything and probably thinks I owe it to him to get him back in my sister's _good graces_."

"Fuck you," Fiona whispers sharply, but Lip's expression doesn't change. "That sick son of a bitch is _not_taking my house."

"Jim said your other house belongs to your great-aunt, but that she's dead. He could use that as leverage if he finds that out."

"So he won't find out," Ian says, then, in a hard, quiet voice and everyone looks at him. "Fiona wanted the house next door so she was near us. We don't do foster care or any of that. Debbie told me _Jimmy_was going to have a platform or bridge or something built between the two so we don't have to leave each other. Tony'll screw all that up. I guess he just wants Fiona."

"I want his knees," Carl says darkly, though everyone but Thom ignores him, though Thom snaps back to business after a moment.

"Not if he never gets the right keys to the house," V interjects and Kev perks up a bit.

"I can change the locks. We can stall him enough to get him. But, you know, we need to know - what are you gonna do?"

_...We don't do drive-bys, we park in front of houses and shoot - And when the police come, we fuckin' shoot it out with them, too..._

Kev and, now, everyone else is looking at Thom, who sighs. "My brother hates our parents, hell, I hate our parents, but when our father dies, I get the house, he doesn't. Anyway, he doesn't need it anymore. He doesn't need to force himself through med school or any of that anymore.

"I'll work on this plan because I want this bastard, too, but - in return - _James_, I want you to get a real damned job. If you end up getting arrested for carjacking, I can't help you. So damned well stop it before you don't have any other options.

"You want to stay here, I'm sure there's _something_, anything you can do. But unless the theft stops, if it's not Tony, it'll be some other cop - one who _will_follow the law and haul your ass in. It's not like you don't have an inheritance of any kind coming when Dad dies anyway. Use it for something legal or I'll kick your ass, myself."

Fiona probably would have lifted Jimmy's head up by his hair if it hadn't been for the bandages, but settled for taking him gently by both cheeks and forcing him to look at Thom.

"As long as I'm here, I don't care. I'll work at Plass, even...dog catcher...pitcher..."

"Okay, let's get an answer from Concussion Man when he doesn't have one anymore," Ian snickers, but V's coming forward with Thom and they each confer over him, examining him again.

"He's getting more confused, not better. He was on sleeping shifts for two days while I watched him and then cleaned everything before I brought him here, but his pupils are still of irregular size and he's less coherent by the minute."

"Hospital," V says concisely and Fiona's eyes widen with fear again as she takes Jimmy's face in her hands again and stares into his eyes. He doesn't respond.

"We need an ambulance," Thom says, his voice forcefully calm, though his face is the opposite.

"They won't come here, not on time anyway," Lip says before turning to Kev, "You got registration on your car?"

"That, if not insurance," Kev says and Thom glances up at him.

"Jim needs to go in the back, but someone has to sit with him, keep him conscious. I'll follow."

"I will," Fiona says, taking hold of Jimmy's hand and everyone who isn't Thom looks at her. "I am not going to kill him. I'm going to kill Tony. There is a big difference."

"You can't keep him alive by yelling at him the whole way, can you?" Debbie asks and Thom winces, but nods, "Actually, it depends on the level of consciousness. Sometimes we do yell."

Lip brightens only slightly, "Lucky you, Fiona."

"Shut the fuck up and help Kev get his car. Is Dad still on the floor?"

Ian pipes up, "Yep, out 'til morning."

"That tarp Kev got us yesterday?"

"Under his ass."

"Someone get everyone's coats and Liam and Joey's snowsuits - you're coming, too, Ethel."

"Gee," Ian says in a falsely cheerful tone. "We're going to the hospital and someone actually has insurance. What a new adventure."

"Has anyone ever told you you don't actually do 'innocent' well?" Debbie asks and Ian flips her off, Fiona smacks him, and he ignores it to ask Debbie, "Well, by all means, give me lessons."

"Sure thing, Gutless," Lip interjects by way of an aside and Ian glares at him all the way out the door.

The trip to their cars, themselves, is something Thom will never forget. He doesn't think he's heard or seen so many death threats, insults, swear words, slaps, or punches in such a short period of time.

If Jimmy were properly conscious right now and he didn't have a police officer to hunt down, he's reasonably certain he'd be smiling.

**...TBC...**


	3. Part III: I Might As Well Be Wearing

**Mirror Image...**  
><em>By Angelfirenze<em>

**Disclaimer: **Abbott, Paul, prod. "Shameless (US)." Shameless. Showtime. SHO, 27 Mar. 2011. Television. Gym Class Heroes. "The Quilt.". Fueled By Ramen, 2008.

**Summary: **It takes Fiona's hand suddenly gripping his, scared and damp with sweat, for him to remember he's not the only one counting on Jimmy being okay at times.

**Timeline: **Post-'Father Frank, Full of Grace'.

**Notes, First:** I watch a lot of television documentaries, as well as Countdown with Keith Olbermann (*_so_happy he's back on air*) and, like what I read, it tends to color my writing process. current_, in general, is really good for that, I find.

**Notes, Second: **This will obviously deviate completely from the limited spoilers released about season two. I'm okay with that, I find.

Part III: I Might As Well Be Wearing Heels - Thomas

_...Now it all makes sense but, back then, I wasn't havin' it - more concerned with He-Man, so young and so damned adamant...More concerned with Castle Grayskull than baseball...Then I learned, if I worked a little, I could have it all..._

Despite the fact that Jimmy's cranial surgery is rather shorter than average and despite the fact that he's a wreck and tries to spend the time in the family waiting area with the Gallaghers and, then, Jimmy's room, waiting for the orderlies to bring him up from Recovery, Thom finds that he keeps falling asleep.

While this is perfectly reasonable, it bothers him to no end because this isn't just some run-of-the-mill surgery and this isn't just some anonymous patient, this is his _brother _and while he seems successful at explaining what's gone on from what the other doctors have told him to the Gallaghers and Fisher-Balls (Fiona, in particular, sits right next to him and asks for a running commentary whenever the doctor comes out to let them know anything) but, for the most part, everything is a blur.

The thing is that if it were about anyone else at any other time, he'd probably think it was pretty sweet; as it is, he's punchy with himself because over thirty-six hours without sleep are finally getting to him and while he knows the time he's just spent awake and why means he won't be going in to work, himself, for quite some time, it still fucks with him that he can't seem to keep conscious long enough not to have to re-orient himself every few seconds, from what he can tell.

Thom doesn't think he should be doing this, all this falling asleep. He's decided to try to work with _Médecins Sans Frontières_ and doesn't think falling asleep all the time will help his chances (maybe he _is _trying to get out, like Jimmy already has, and he's running even further than he ever thought - he's thinking now that he might be best needed right here, is considering, possibly changing his mind), but he knows he's being irrational and that the more than a day and a half without sleep is getting to him in ways he can't expect.

But it doesn't make him feel any better.

Jimmy's skull wasn't cracked, the CT showed, but there was free blood in the lining of his brain and they were fixing that, possibly undoing Veronica's rather beautiful on-the-fly work.

He and the Gallaghers (Kev was sent off rather early, along with Veronica and Ethel, because both foster parents have to work and because Kev still needs to change those locks before Markovitch can get anywhere back near Jimmy and Fiona's house) sit and they wait and Thom translates the jargon back into English for them when the doctor's done talking to him and, slower than he's wanted, but faster than he knows he should likely expect, they're being chivvied upstairs to Jimmy's room.

Thom's glad he chose the hospital because it's quite nice and spacious here and while Debbie, Carl, and Liam are all fast asleep and return to said state the moment they all sit back down, Thom dazedly watches Lip and Ian confer with one another in whispers and wonders why he never did that with Jimmy when he had the chance.

Why it took permanent damage to Jimmy's equilibrium and an attendant ban from ever driving again (Thom is secretly glad as hell, but the news isn't completely good otherwise - Jimmy will need observation and care for more than two weeks before likely going to PT after that, but he'll _live_) for Thom to realize just how much he's neglected his brother and how much he means to Thom or anyone else, he'll never know.

It takes Fiona's hand suddenly gripping his, scared and damp with sweat, for him to remember he's not the only one counting on Jimmy being okay at times.

He feels so fucking selfish.

Jimmy's hours in Recovery are a hell in and of themselves because, while they know Jimmy's going to be okay, neither he nor Fiona can put their own eyes on him and Thom can't remember the last time he cried, but once he's staring down at the sedated form of his brother, covered in bandages, the arterial line leading from his wrist, the nasogastric tube down his nose and throat in case he vomits again (Thom feels hideously stupid for not asking or even considering that possibility over the past few days), and he can feel tears seeping out from under his clenched eyelids where his eyes are burning ferociously and Jimmy is _alive_.

Fiona's not bothering with stoicism, already talking to Jimmy as though he were conscious and not under the blank lull of anesthesia, berating him for not telling her what he had gone through, telling him - Jimmy - that whatever name he decides he wants, the point is that they're supposed to be together and how can they do that when he won't let her know when things go wrong or badly? He's got some serious ass-kissing to do over the next few months when he comes home, damn it, she says, but her feather-light kiss on his bandages belies any and all anger.

It's the early hours of the morning when the nurses force them to leave and Fiona's tears at the very prospect aren't something new to Thom, in a linearly-thinking fashion, but his own certainly are. It's a moment or two before Thom can force himself to open his car door and climb back behind the wheel, Fiona having extended the invitation for him to sleep on their couch (Lip smirks for some reason and Fiona promptly elbows him in the side and tells him he better have used that Resolve she brought home from work, but Thom is way, way too fucking tired to give anything close to a shit), which he accepts wholeheartedly.

He sleeps dreamlessly, himself, tiredness dragging him down like undertow and every once in a while he can faintly hear voices around him, but it's only a few seconds before exhaustion claims him again and everything is completely silent.

He's taken completely by surprise, of course, when he wakes up on the Gallaghers' couch and has to re-orient himself for a few minutes before he realizes that there seems to be a ferocious argument coming from upstairs, more yelling and swears that are completely ignored by Carl and Debbie, running around like one should likely expect, but Lip stalks around as if he wishes he had a gun in his hand and Ian's turned into a mouse, barely answering questions with little more than nods or shakes. The middle child keeps eyeing the baseball bat hanging near the stairs in a squirrely, anxious fashion.

A disheveled (to say the least) blond man stomps past him and Thom flinches away as the man - Frank _fucking _Gallagher - stops to glare at him and goes to ask or tell him something, but Fiona and Lip are right behind him and before he can get a word out, Ian's jerked the door open and Frank and his rolled bundle of clothing are out the door and into the snow.

Thom suddenly realizes he can smell urine, old and dried, as well as vomit and Lip is stomping back past him, himself, to gingerly roll up the tarp that Thom suddenly remembers was mentioned and takes it out the back, presumably to hose the fetid thing off.

Liam toddles past him, wrapped in toilet paper and Debbie practically skips after him, cheerfully singing her baby brother's name. She calls out the door, "Bye, Daddy, see you...whenever!" but Fiona yanks her back inside and orders her into the shower.

It's only then that anyone else realizes he's awake and Thom immediately feels like an intruder.

But Fiona only smiles in an embarrassed sort of way and asks Thom if he wants anything to eat for - shit, does he want lunch?

And Thom goes to decline, only to realize he's ravenous. He probably hasn't eaten since Jimmy first showed up at the house - fuck, was that three days ago? Four? He's surprised he's not in...hell, he probably is in shock. He nods as firmly and succinctly as he can and Fiona walks off to return only minutes later with a box of cold grilled chicken from the United Center and she apologizes for its temperature, whereas he'd apologize for attacking the proferred food like a starved tiger, but he's too fucking hungry to care at the moment.

Once he's done, he finds that Fiona is flopped down next to him, her head tilted to his opposite side. She brought him paper towels and he wipes his mouth and hands, all the while blushing up a storm even though no one - least of all Fiona - seems to notice.

"Are you angry with him?" is the first thing out of Thom's mouth, though he doesn't know where the question came from, and Fiona is suddenly looking at him as though he's speaking a different language and she's trying to guess what he's saying.

After a few moments, however, she's looking down at her hands and tears are gathering in her eyes again. Thom refrains from touching his brother's girlfriend because way too many idiotic, drama-filled daytime television shows are fueled by moments like this, but Fiona eventually answers on her own.

"I thought I was. When he was...with you, I was - God, I wanted to kick him so hard in the balls, I wanted to scream at him, ask him why the hell he thought leaving me was - why he thought I'd come with him and leave my brothers and sister, but...I remember he wouldn't let me turn on the light, he wouldn't let me see his face. I guess I know now why it didn't occur to him that I'd find out if I went with him...to Costa Rica...I..."

Fiona sighs and runs a hand through her touseled hair. Her brothers and sister are all more colored than she is, except for Lip, and Thom wonders if this paleness is stress (because even though he's only known her - them for about two days, he can see she's under a mountain of it and the base of that mountain seems to be named Frank and Monica Gallagher or whatever the hell her name is now) or if it's something else, but it doesn't matter because she blows out a deep breath and sinks downward into the couch as if she's one of the many articles of clothing lying around at the moment before whispering now.

"But then he was there in V and Kev's kitchen and his face was a mess and you guys were all yelling at me that he'd been hurt and it was like I could feel...my heart tearing. And then those doctors - you said they were saying his brain was bleeding and they were trying to fix it...Tony did that, I've known Tony since we were four, but...if he did that? He was the only cop I ever really trusted - that _we _trusted, but if I'm so little to him that he'd try to kill my happiness and act like it was all okay?"

She's sniffling again and wipes her eyes on her hands, "Ste-_Jimmy_, he used to say this stuff like could we go out for coffee or lunch dates and I thought it was so weird because nobody I know goes on damned lunch dates, but here I meet you and you're a _doctor_? And he's from a whole family of doctors? Some of the first things he ever said to me were 'this whole city belongs to Denises and I'm sick of them' and it still didn't - it never occurred to me that he was rich or that his - _God_, I never even thought about you guys, his family - "

"You're his family," Thom interrupts before he can stop himself and Fiona stares at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Thom forces himself to continue. "All Jimmy's life, he hated everything our mother forced us to participate in, hated that it was just expected of us to follow our father into medicine...I remember when he was a kid, he loved to paint, but our father constantly said he'd just end up starving on the street and to get a real fucking education, a real, respectable fucking job.

"And Jimmy's always tried to be as 'good' or whatever, as me, but I did everything first because I'm four years older than he is. But none of that matters now. All that matters is that Jimmy's finally happy and it took coming here, to this place, this neighborhood, meeting you, the family you have together...even stealing cars - I'm convinced that if it hadn't been cars, Jimmy would have been - "

"Selling pharmaceuticals on eBay?"

Thom is confused by Fiona's subsequent laughter, but just goes with it. "Yeah, probably. I don't...I won't ever say that I liked it, or am happy he did it, but this is the happiest I've ever - _ever _seen my little brother...and even then, he's not my little brother anymore. He's the man out of us, not me. I haven't...our father used to say, he can't say much anymore, which - thank God - but he used to say that a boy becomes a man when he falls in love and Jimmy kicked my ass in that race. I've never been in love.

"Money's not...people think money solves everything. Jimmy told me once, 'They're just little pieces of paper'. He said that to me and our father and Dad backhanded him across the face, but Jimmy never took those words back. I know that's what he believes. And the past six months have kind of proven him right. This place, there's not much money around here, but this family, this neighborhood has each other in a way my family never, ever has."

Thom took a deep breath of his own, staring up at the ceiling, "And if anybody was going to find that out, it was going to be Jimmy, even if he had to be sort of undercover to do it. I don't think he trusted himself to do it out in the open. He was bleeding last night, but he said he hated being James Lishman.

"I just...I hope he can find a way to bring these two things together. That he can be James Lishman, the...the painter, like he wanted to be before our father smashed his dreams apart. I'd like to go to the Met in New York and see paintings by my brother on display. I want to try to convince him it's okay to do that. I'll pay for him to go to art school if I have to, just so long as he's happy. And - and he wants your brother to go to UChicago, too, wants it so badly."

Thom can hear Fiona's breath hitch, but forces himself not to look at her. "I think he'd use his inheritance for that, hell, just to make it happen, but...but he doesn't want the family you've built or the one he's joined himself to and tried to build with you to fall apart, either, so, really, I'm pretty sure this is going to be his debt to society. If you could even call it a debt.

"But he has to get better first, so what I'd like to do is...well, I mean, if you'd let me - by the time Jimmy comes home from rehabilitation, for these two houses to be connected and...for none of you to have to worry about everything your parents dropped on your shoulders, Fiona."

Fiona gasps and tries to backpedal, but Thom finally turns to look her in the eye. "If you marry my brother like I know he wants to - to marry you, for you to marry him and _choose _to, then you'll be my sister-in-law, your brothers and sister will be my family, too, and the closest thing we've ever had to it. Veronica and Kevin will be something like more in-laws.

"You're only twenty-one, my brother's only twenty-three. I don't want your lives to just...stop. From what Jimmy told me, your brothers and sister agree. They want you to have a break. A break from having to work ninety-thousand jobs every damned week just to keep the lights on or the heat. You're doing your parents' jobs and you're so much better at it than they'll ever be, but you still shouldn't have to sacrifice everything you want.

"I mean, even if it was online, you still deserve to get to try for college, your brother does. All of you do. You don't deserve to be broke and cobbling everything together from scratch until Liam's eighteen. If you want to take care of them, we accept that, but please let us try to do something for you, too. You had to have had dreams at some point, they can't all have died. And your parents shouldn't be allowed to hang this noose around your neck, saying everything is on your back so they can run off and be fucking children.

"Jimmy told me about all your brothers' and your sister's accomplishments and how Monica was your mother, too, and just fucking abandoned you just like she abandoned them. You didn't let her come back here and steal Liam from you on some trumped-up pretense, so don't let her steal anything else, either. Burdens should be shared, not shouldered alone, and even more than that - family is not a burden and you've done nothing but prove that."

By the time Thom finishes talking, Fiona's crying so hard she can't even speak, but somehow he knows he got through to her.

They can be a family together and, finally, all the stupid money going to waste on such moronic endeavors as 'new curtains for the sunroom' or 'moonroom' or whatever the fuck his mother calls it...can be put to good, decent, damned needed use.

But it's the hug she gives him, the tightest he's ever gotten in his life, and Fiona's whispered, "Thank you," that let him know he's not gone wrong.

_...All my friends got allowances, I had a paper route, and when no one was lookin', I threw the papers out...Got caught, made Dad furious, said 'If you're gonna do somethin', do it right, that's what _earnest_ is'..._

**...TBC...**


	4. Part IV: Just When You Think

**Mirror Image...**  
><em>By Angelfirenze<em>

**Disclaimer: **Abbott, Paul, prod. "Shameless (US)." Shameless. Showtime. SHO, 27 Mar. 2011. Television. Bayside. "Bayside.". Victory, 2005.

**Summary: **Wiping her eyes again, Fiona began to make her way upstairs before stopping and turning back around to glare at both Lip and Thom, "This reaches anyone but V soon and I know exactly who to kill in their sleep and - "

"Bury in the backyard next to Great-Aunt Ginger, got it," Lip accepted, shooing Fiona upstairs.

**Timeline: **Post-'Father Frank, Full of Grace'.

**Notes, First:** Right, so I just rewatched the first episode _again_and more details that escaped me earlier popped back out. Plus, this one thing won't leave me alone, so I'm just going to have to go with it or it'll drive me nuts.

**Notes, Second: **This will obviously deviate completely from the limited spoilers released about season two. I'm okay with that, I find.

**Notes, Third:** _Delta 9-tetrahydrocannabinol _is the active ingredient in marijuana.

Part IV: Just When You Think You've Collared Your Dream Girl... - James

_"Just tell me you haven't gotten some girl pregnant." - Fiona_

_"No worries." - Ian_

"Shit." Fiona muttered to herself, staring blankly at the vomit in the toilet. Stress. It had to be stress. "Shit." Reaching up for the side of the sink, Fiona pulled herself to her feet before flushing the toilet and closing the lid, turning to sit on it and staring down at her hands.

What had that asshole at the United Center said that afternoon? _"...but only if I double-bagged it; project girls never abort."_

"Fuck. This...can't be happening."

"Fiona?" Lip knocked on the door and waited for a moment before knocking again. Fiona had been in the bathroom for going on fifteen minutes after dashing inside out of nowhere. Jimmy's brother had been making a call home to tell their mother about him, but - apparently - hadn't really expected her to be much more help than Frank usually was. It was during this call that Fiona suddenly muttered, "Bathroom" and dashed across the kitchen, not coming out since.

Thom had given the whole scenario a look, but seemed to be still too out of his depth to comment on any of it.

Lip knew damned well better. Sighing heavily, he glanced over and motioned to Thom, who reluctantly joined him and together they walked over to the washer and dryer.

"Smart money says my sister's up the spout."

"What?" Thom asked, completely confused and Lip couldn't help but roll his eyes, grinning despite himself.

"_Knocked up_," he reiterated quietly and Thom's eyes clenched shut.

"They didn't use any condoms? Ever?"

Lip winced, "Most of the time, I'm pretty sure, yeah, but there was the night they met - hell, no, they didn't that night. Bitch, please - kept us all awake except Carl because of his headphones. Lucky little bastard. The other time I'm pretty sure about was when they were too damned horny to even get to Fiona's room and fucked on the stairs - oh, no, my mistake: the _hallway_..."

Lip rolled his eyes again and Thom pinched his nose.

"None of you are idiots, I can see that much, and my brother never got so much as a B in anything, same as you. This - "

But Lip shook his head, "They were horny and sometimes drunk and you know damned well all the intelligence in the world - as constantly exhibited by my father - is easily overcome by ethanol and/or delta 9-tetrahydrocannabinol, both of which are in abundant supply in this house."

Thom slid his hands down his face again, "Shit. This...is bothering you much less than it's bothering me."

Lip snorted lightly and smirked yet again, "Well, I don't know if you've noticed or anything, but my family's not exactly known for embracing contraceptives on a regular basis or really _planning_ any _parenthood_...maybe - though probably not - but possibly something about being - admittedly lapsed - Catholics and all. I take it your family's Lutheran?"

Thom couldn't help but smirk at this, "Well, gee, what gave it away?"

"'Lishman'. Etymology and all that crap. That and your family's famous as fuck, really. It was hard hiding my surprise when I found out Jimmy's real name. Shit. A Lishman probably knocked up my sister. If my dad wasn't a complete asshole and drunk most of the time, he'd probably see some value in treating Fiona like a fucking brood mare after this."

Thom narrowed his eyes, "Anything Fiona and Jimmy do is their damned business and that includes - "

Fiona burst out of the bathroom just then, clearly having tried to pull herself together, before she noticed Lip and Thom staring at her. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands into them. "Lip, we...fuck, we have a situation."

_Nothing feels right, but my fake smile's pasted on like everything's fine..._

"So we noticed," he responded, indicating both himself and Thom, causing Fiona to wince and bite her lip.

"Oh, God."

"Look on the bright side: odds say it's The Artist Formerly Known As...well, hell, Steve's - as opposed to Fuck Face Markovitch. You only did him once, right?"

Fiona's eyes widened and her face crumpled, hissing, "Once is enough and you know it!" as tears began to spill down her face.

Immediately, Lip forewent more teasing and rushed over to her and wrapped her in a hug. "Look, go call V, I'm _sure_it's not his. And...if it is...I'm equally sure there's some childless family willing to take the little sociopath in."

"Asshole," Fiona whimpered, returning Lip's hug, biting her lip again to try to keep from crying aloud. "How the..."

Fiona paused and refused to finish her sentence or give Lip any more ammunition than he already had, but her brother didn't mock her. Fiona knew he was in love with Karen, damned if he was going to admit it aloud. She shuddered before asking Lip where the cell phone was, which Ian had on him, and did it have any minutes on it.

Wiping her eyes again, Fiona began to make her way upstairs before stopping and turning back around to glare at both Lip and Thom, "This reaches anyone but V soon and I know exactly who to kill in their sleep and - "

"Bury in the backyard next to Great-Aunt Ginger, got it," Lip accepted, shooing Fiona upstairs.

Thom turned slowly back to look at Lip, "Is she serious?"

Lip simply stared back at Thom, "I told you my father was an asshole, just add 'completely without scruples or anything approaching ethics' to the list."

"Oh, my God."

"Need to go to church?"

Thom could only stare at him in wonderment, "You guys, like, have no boundaries at all, do you?"

"Fiona, Ian, and I were all kicked out of the choir by twelve or thirteen. Debbie's still there, but mostly to scam UNICEF money. Carl brained a priest who tried to molest him in his office and Liam's Liam."

Thom's mouth very nearly fell open, but he managed to keep it shut. "I...never mind, we should go see if Jimmy's awake. He needs to hear this."

"It won't knock him back out?"

Thom snorted, "Contrary to what he would probably wish afterward, no. Though, since I enjoy life...sort of...I think we should wait until your sister tells Veronica and see what happens from then on."

"The question is whether Fiona can manage to say anything without Debbie hearing. She's crazy about babies and the entire neighborhood, including my father will know in a heartbeat."

"Go - go tell her to use a payphone, it's much easier."

"Point," Lip agreed and, with that, he dashed upstairs to tell Fiona just that. Within seconds, she was hurtling back downstairs, now struggling into her winter coat and Lip carrying both his own and their snow boots.

_...When the puzzle pieces twist and seem like they won't fit their match, I'll be waiting, I'll be waiting..._

Lip looked at Thom, "I figure we go see Slim Jim after we talk to V, plus, we've got to check on Kev's work next door and get the keys. Tony's been on patrol, as usual, parked right out front our house - fucking stalker - but from what we can tell, he hasn't had the chance to do anything. He certainly hasn't come up and proposed to Fiona."

Fiona cut in, "And if he does, I'm clockin' him in the fuckin' face as hard as I can - see if he likes it."

"Think you can keep Debbie and Carl occupied? I've already asked Ian to look after Liam for a bit while we go take care of 'something'. He's cool with it. It'll take his mind off Frank."

Thom almost paused, noticing not for the first time that while they occasionally called their father 'Dad', the Gallagher children usually referred to him by his first name or as '[their] father'. For a split-second, he wondered if Frank Gallagher ever noticed this, but discarded that notion for instead finding his own coat, boots, and hat, and putting them back on.

"I have an idea about your brother and how violent he is," he said off-hand, which almost brought the procession to a screeching halt. "Not that - not - no. Ice hockey, right now - it's cold and everything and he'd love it. Sponsored youth hockey and in the spring, baseball or at least batting cages. Hitting things and getting that aggression and anger at Frank and Monica out, but minimally damaging people in the process.

"The most he could probably do is knock out someone's tooth if he was really concentrating, but if he was more focused on scoring goals and if you - we - came to see his games and cheered him on for being productive, he'd stop hurting his classmates. Same with paying attention in school. He's only eight, he's got time to turn it around and even if he has to repeat the grade he's in, it's better than prison. Plus, talking to someone who doesn't have a history with him and is less likely to judge him. I...I'd do it, just so long as he signed a pledge not to hurt me and that pledge was followed up with strict rules. "

Fiona stared for a few moments before she let out a relieved breath, pausing to smile at Thom and, then, Lip, her approval of the idea obvious, and Lip ran his hand through his hair. "Hell, it'd work. You're buyin'. Your idea, you're buyin'."

Thom couldn't help but laugh for the first time in days. "Well, of course. He's my brother-in-law, isn't he? Let's say it's his Christmas present from the Lishmans."

Fiona snorted, but Thom could see more tears gathering on her face. "You're damned set on this, aren't you?" she asked as they tromped out down the steps and toward the nearest pay phone.

"Fiona, I told you: before I ever met you, you saved my brother's life. He was just...going through the motions, trying to feel something. Trying to feel alive and not...like a mannequin, ready for posing and playing pretend at a job he hated. I have _never_seen him the way he is when he talks about being with you. It's like he's a real person again.

"You got mad that time he said he practically lives in your house, but he was being totally honest. He felt like, 'everyone else in this _family_is contributing, I should be, too.' He felt like he should be winning bread like the rest of you, or at least showing something for being there. Here."

Fiona kept her head down, but Thom could see her swiping at her face again and again through her fingerless gloves, and eventually Lip put his arm back around her shoulders.

Thom forced himself to continue as quietly as the outdoor weather would allow him to, "This isn't about, 'Oh, wow, my baby's a Lishman, let's cash in or - shit, I knocked up some chick my parents would hate me for being ten feet near' - fuck all that. Our parents have all proved they haven't got anything to give us except ulcers, that they don't give a damn about anyone except themselves. We're nothing but more extensions of their egos in the most literal sense possible."

_...And they can say they love you, but it still won't mean a thing...'Cause the tides may change tomorrow, but I won't be there to love..._

"You guys have all risen above that, Jimmy and I are trying. If I know anything about my brother at all, he'll be just as in love with this baby as he is with you. This is a child that's going to be loved for more than the possibility of what they can bring to the table or...why the hell ever your father seems to be so proud of children he couldn't be bothered to raise. It's already different. You could have dashed off with Jimmy to the Caribbean, but you didn't. You stayed and took that job with that tax preparation service - "

"I still say they're pimps, Fiona," Lip cut in quite seriously, and Fiona elbowed him hard in the side. Despite being winded, Lip started walking again immediately. "They're - just waiting to - turn you - out!" he hissed breathlessly and Fiona glared at him.

"Pimps? Really?" Thom asked, equally seriously, and Fiona merely growled at him, refraining from hitting Thom in any way.

"Both of you shut the fuck up. It's the best job I've had in years so just shut the fuck up and let's...let's just fucking call V and see if Kev changed the locks right on the way back."

But then Fiona stopped altogether and her eyes widened despite the snow that was beginning to fall. Lip followed her line of sight and immediately swore, lurching forward only to be stayed by Fiona's hand.

"Fiona, it's - "

"I know it's Tony and I'm not having you go back down for hitting a cop! You will _not_get out of it this time!" Fiona hissed before taking a deep breath and swiping away more tears.

A black patrol car drove slowly by and Thom immediately had to force himself to follow not Lip's example, but Fiona's. Tony's car slowly rolled to a stop.

"Fiona? Lip? Hey, I - "

"We've got somethin' important right now, Tony, we can't talk," Fiona tried to say in a conversational tone and, to her credit, Thom felt she mostly managed it.

"Who's this?" Tony asked, immediately betraying his suspicion, and Thom discreetly rolled his eyes, but refused to come any closer.

"Dr. Thom Lishman," he forced himself to say as impersonally as possible, thanking medical school for that much. "Fiona and Lip know my younger brother. He's in the ICU right now, you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Tony immediately froze, blinking, "Lishman? He's a - "

"He's my brother," Thom said tightly, taking Fiona's hand while Lip took the other. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we'll be on our way."

"Jesus, doctor, do you know what - "

"We're not under suspicion for simply walking down the street and so we're leaving now, officer," Thom curtly interrupted before he and Lip worked together to force Fiona's leaden feet to start working once more.

It was several moments before Tony finally began to drive again and, for the first time in several years, didn't stop in front of Fiona and Lip's house, simply continuing on his patrol route as he should have been all along.

By the time they reached the nearest phone, Fiona was leaning on Lip's shoulder, unable not to cry as he whispered comfort into her ear.

"It's alright," he said soothingly in the end, "We're going to see Jimmy right after this, right after we see about the locks and you and V form up a plan."

"I can't believe I slept with that creep," Fiona whimpered, wiping her eyes again.

"There's more than one person saying that all over, everywhere," Lip sighed, brushing his hair down again. "Look, like I said, the odds are good and even if they're wrong, you've got choices. Always."

"You're my little brother, when did you stop being an asshole?" Fiona asked softly, kissing the top of Lip's head, and Lip smiled crookedly.

"Please, ask Ian, I'm so still one."

"Will you stop with all the gay jokes," Fiona asked quietly. "He's got it hard enough as it is."

"You know about that?" Lip asked, genuinely surprised.

"I also know you've been fucking Karen all over the place and if you've knocked _her_up, I'll kill you, myself."

Lip sighed heavily, his gaze falling to the icy concrete below, "Please, kill away, I might feel better. Anyway, she says her dickhead father's gone missing. We should throw a party - hopefully, Frank'll go wherever Eddie Jackson is. They can be assholes together at a convention."

Fiona now gave him a hug back in return, squeezing him as hard as she could before she said, "Party later. Business first."

Thom felt like he was watching a very closed in, disturbing tennis match, but finally Fiona picked up the phone and began dialing.

"V? Yeah, it's Fiona. I'm calling from a pay phone because we've...hell, I don't know if I should call it a damned problem or what - just...just here, listen..."

_...We give in nightly to our addiction, self-afflicted, public crucifixion..._

**...TBC...**


	5. Part V: Neighbors of Satan

**Mirror Image...**  
><em>By Angelfirenze<em>

**Disclaimer: **Abbott, Paul, prod. "Shameless (US)." Shameless. Showtime. SHO, 27 Mar. 2011. Television. TRUSTcompany. "The Lonely Position of Neutral.". Geffen, 2002. Death Cab for Cutie. "The Open Door EP.". Atlantic, Barsuk, 2009.

**Summary: **"Her father damaged her as much as Frank has us. Sheila's trying, she always has, but there's only so much she can do. Karen couldn't take it anymore, not after being dragged into a public arena, per se, and branded by her own father. She was spinning out of control after that. She basically..."

**Timeline: **Post-'Father Frank, Full of Grace'.

**Notes, First: **Okay, this is obviously a quote from Frank, but it fit so well for this. Little shout-out to one of my favorite band names, ever: The Dillinger Escape Plan.

**Notes, Second: **For those just tuning in, this will obviously deviate completely from the limited spoilers released about season two. I'm okay with that, I find.

**Notes, Third:** A bit of a shout-out to _Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay_ in there, because damned if it didn't _fit_. Ugh, what a waste of humanity those two are, and I'm - of course - comparing them to Frank, again, of all people.

**Notes, Fourth:** I'm on the second book of now finished with the _amazing_ The Hunger Games trilogy. I swear, between these and The Evil Geniustrilogy, books are turning me into a conspiracy theorist or something. Another reason to love reading.

Part V: Neighbors of Satan... - Thomas

"V, V - Kev, open the hell up, please!" Fiona banged on the door and Thom glanced around wondering if anyone else was bothered by the noise, but then he remembered he and Jimmy had grown up in such a remote location as their house - of course, he'd know nothing about neighbors or what having them was like.

V suddenly whipped the door open and yanked Fiona inside, not bothering to invite Lip or Thom, but Lip went in anyway, and Thom took that as a cue to enter, as well. No one objected so he simply shut the door and waited, watching as V sat a once-again crying Fiona down at the table, and Thom was surprised that they were joined by Ethel, but then he remembered...at thirteen, she was a mother, already. Inwardly, he shuddered.

"Does St-Jimmy know?" V asked immediately and Fiona shook her head. "We're gonna go see him after we leave here, but...oh, God, what if - "

Thom had to jump in, "Fiona, I already told you how Jimmy's gonna take this. That's not anything you have to worry about. _I_have to worry about keeping him in bed and not dancing on the ceiling."

Fiona laughed compulsively, "Liar," but she was smiling a bit as she imagined it. Then she sobered up again, "We ran into Tony."

V's eyes immediately widened again and Thom knew she was wondering if either Fiona or Lip had hit him. Sure enough, he saw her surreptitiously check their knuckles.

"Nothing happened!" Fiona asserted as soon as she saw it. "I dragged Lip back before he could do somethin' stupid and all I wanted to do was get the hell outta there. Thom, though, he said stuff."

V looked over at Thom, who found himself being sized up once again. "Oh, really. Should I be checking _your_knuckles?"

Thom wanted to snort, but his memory of Jimmy lying in the ICU wouldn't let him. "If I'd hit Markovitch, you'd be visiting me in County lockup right now, doctor or no. And I sure as hell wouldn't have stopped at one punch. I was tempted to go ahead just like Lip was. They let that asshole run free?"

"He puts on that 'good ol' boy down home' act for everyone then pulls all this shit behind everybody's backs. Like I said, he's Opie to everyone."

"Yeah, sure, Opie with a machete," Lip muttered and Thom then gave in to the urge to snort.

"What am I gonna do, V? What're we gonna do? I mean - well, Jimmy and Thom's parents are obviously loaded, but they'll hate me and - "

"Damn them, this is yours and Jimmy's lives, not theirs," Thom cut in before he meant to. "Sorry, go ahead."

"Why should I? I agree with you," V dismissed, turning back to Fiona. "I thought my momma was gonna wring my neck, bringin' home a white boy. But look - she loves Kev and he loves her."

Fiona found herself smiling again, then her mouth dropped open, "Oh, God - I forgot - we're black, too!"

V burst out into laughter, then, taking Fiona up in a hug across the table. "Girl, I still can't believe your blond, blue-eyed assed - "

"Don't forgot white trash," Fiona cut in, but V gently slapped her shoulder.

"Oh, bullshit. Anyway, I forgot your daddy's blacker than you are! Your momma's white!" she gave in to the laughter and soon Fiona and Lip were both giggling and chuckling too.

"So, who cares, really? Maybe we could kidnap Frank, sober him up again, put him in a suit on some real good antipsychotics and then drag him up to their place. Maybe he could fool 'em."

Fiona's smile widened and then she remembered, "There was this one time, my Uncle Wyatt who was in the Navy came to visit, he cut my dad's hair and dumped a bucket of cold water over him before scrubbing him down with a ton of soap and this big brush - Frank had a court appearance to sit in with our grandma before she went to prison on that arson charge - and after that it was like...like, holy shit, I didn't even recognize my own dad. I was like five or six, I think. Lip was a baby."

"Damn, I wish I could have seen that," Lip muttered and then Fiona looked at him. "I've got pictures if you want. Uncle Wyatt said we needed evidence of Dad's upstanding character for him to be a witness. He was sober for a whole week before and after."

"Then I don't want to see them," Lip brushed off and Fiona nodded, understanding.

"You have access to antipsychotics?" Thom asked and Fiona said quietly, "Sometimes the free clinic where my dad goes to get his disability checkups tries to put him on them. They say something about him being manic-depressive - "

Thom's face lit up and Fiona noticed, "What?" Thom took a deep breath. "Jimmy told me stuff about your father when he got home. I figured from the description that he fit the diagnosis for bipolar disorder but, since I'm not a psychiatrist, I can't be absolutely certain and wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway. But it's common for bipolar patients to go off their meds because they hate the side effects."

"Yeah, 'cause the disease has been a really fun gig," Fiona griped bitterly. "So the free clinic probably gave my dad a psych exam or something?"

"Likely, if they wanted to put him on meds. It depends on how severe the case of the disorder is and it seems that if they were that desperate - and Jimmy says everyone seems to know your dad - " Fiona nodded morosely, as did Lip, "that they seemed to have just cause. If they have an on-site psychiatric staff, then they could have meds dispensed, but - again - if your father won't take them, he'll be the human carnival ride Jimmy described until he does. He seemed way more manic than anything else."

Fiona laughed bitterly, "We had to pour beer down his throat so he'd stop tearing holes in the walls. I mean, it was our only house."

Thom raised an eyebrow, "The holes are patched?"

"We spackled some of them ourselves, but the biggest one, we couldn't manage," Lip frowned. "It leads into the attic. It was too unsafe."

"Then the project just got a bit bigger," Thom said simply and V looked blankly to a yet again teary Fiona for answers.

"Thom...he...oh, God, he refuses to - "

"Go away and let us be mixed trash in peace," Lip said, scratching his head, but Fiona grabbed an idle piece of cereal that she'd started to play with and threw it at him.

"Shut up, Lip. Thom...God, he says that we're his family because - because Jimmy and I - "

"Are joined at the genitals," Lip cut in again and Fiona balled her fists, "Will you shut the fuck up?"

"That's so cute," V smiled sweetly and Fiona glared at her now. "Do not join his team. I will pummel you both."

V chuckled now, as did Lip, scratching his nose this time, and then V looked back at Thom. "So what I'm guessing is that since you're okay with Fi and Jimmy, then you don't mind this baby?"

Thom actually found himself shrugging, "It'd be nice to have a niece or nephew. As long as we keep the kid away from all of our parents, obviously."

"Amen to that, Frank would sell the kid for coke."

Thom froze, "You're...not joking."

Fiona grit her teeth now, looking away as tears came surging back, and Lip began to pace before extrapolating.

"Monica came back last month 'cause Frank lured her here with fucking teddy bears or some shit - she's crazy about them - it was part of an insurance scam he couldn't make good on without her signature since she was there when it happened or whatever, but she and her crazy assed girlfriend - whom we won't even mention - decided they'd take Liam because apparently we're not black enough for Big Bob's Fat Dick."

Fiona finished up the explanation, "We found out we're black, too, and I managed to convince Monica that the best thing for Liam was to leave him here because - hey - he doesn't even know who the hell she is!" Fiona finished, sinking back into her chair. She looked at Ethel, instead of Thom, who was watching her with slight trepidation but the younger girl held her gaze, something Fiona appreciated.

"But the point is that Frank was willing to give Liam up if Monica went along with his shitty scheme. I could have killed them both, but leave them in a room together alone for an hour and they'd probably do each other in."

"That or do each other. There's not six of us for nothin'," Lip rolled his eyes as Veronica made a face.

"That...is one of the most unpleasant things I've ever had to imagine, thanks for that, Lip."

Lip smirked, "No problem. At least your mom and dad are and were, like, an actual mom and dad even if your brother's nutty as squirrel shit."

"I should let Marty at you just for that." Lip and Fiona both knew she didn't mean it, but Fiona ordered, "Stop watching Adult Swim when we can get cable," before letting her forehead drop to the cool table.

"Do we need to call a - oh, hey, a doctor's right here. Can a table be cleared by the FDA as legal medical care? Seriously, Fiona and Jim Jims love that thing. Hey, V, I bet they'll buy it off you."

Fiona merely settled for giving Lip the finger this time and Thom rolled his eyes, "She's...going to be fine once the shock wears off, though she'll need to alter her diet and behavior accordingly - slow down and rest much more. We need to tell Jimmy - which is what we were going to do after this impromptu consultation."

"Dancing on the ceiling, huh?" V smirked and Thom grinned. "Please, I guarantee it. At the very least, he'll be grinning like no tomorrow."

"And it won't be the drugs?" Fiona whimpered from her head buried in her arms. Ethel was now awkwardly patting her on the head and she was too tired to do anything but accept the comfort.

"If it were the drugs, he'd be asleep. It'd be the baby." Of this, Thom was certain. Inwardly, he couldn't wait to see the look on Jimmy's face, watch it come alive once again.

"Baby?" Kev asked, walking in from outside and tossing his tool kit and two sets of old doorknobs on the floor behind the door before going to the sink and washing his hands.

"Oh, thank God," Fiona sat up slowly and was watching him desperately now. "You changed both locks? There's not like - any open windows or anything are there?"

Kev shook his head and dried his hands on the tea towel hanging from the stove. "Nope, went in, and locked them, myself. Let the bastard break them, we'll have him on even more crap. What's this shit about a baby?"

"You know how our family's like a warren of rabbits?" Lip asked and Kev snorted, "I always wondered about that. Seriously, Monica could stand two feet away from Frank and nine months later - "

"Will everyone shut the fuck up about Monica and Frank Gallagher fucking?" V complained now, drawing laughter finally from Lip and Fiona, each, as well as Kev and Thom. "I need to eat my fucking dinner later!"

Kev smothered his own smile and looked back at Lip, who gestured to Fiona, mouthing the words, _knocked up!_and Kev's mouth fell open as he digested said information before grinning more widely. "Congrats? So, should I get non-alcoholic beer or an icepick?"

Fiona favored him with a token glare, "Fuck you, Kev, we're keeping it."

"Non-alcoholic beer, then," he grinned again. "So does Daddy know he's gonna be a daddy yet?"

"We're going over as soon as we can talk Fiona away from the cliff," Lip assured him and Fione would have rolled her eyes if it didn't make her feel terribly nauseated all over again to do so. "Got any crackers, V? Looks like Fi's gonna hurl again."

V nodded and got up to retrieve them, leaving Kev to take her place at the table, leaning over and peering at Fiona's scalp. "You know it's gonna be fine, right?"

"That's the problem, Kev," Fiona whispered, then, slowly pulling herself up to face him as V presented her with a box of Club crackers to keep. "What the hell do I know about everything being fine? My thing's everything falling to pieces so I can pick them up."

"Which is temporarily going to be my thing now, like we discussed," Thom interrupted gently and Fiona resisted the urge to look at him again in favor of cramming crackers in her mouth and hoping her head didn't spin too badly.

"Ah, yes, right - " Lip expanded for Kev's benefit. "I forgot. Apparently, the Lishman brothers have well and truly decided to permanently shoehorn themselves into our lives. Thom's gonna do the whole connection thing What's His Face promised by the time said master con artist gets out of the hospital, which apparently won't be for weeks. And since they have money coming out of every orifice, he can pay to have it done in, like, five minutes or whatever."

"Frank's gonna lose his mind the next time he comes home stoned on..." Fiona trailed off, her eyes widening as she looked back at V and Lip. "Aunt Ginger."

"Is dead and won't really mind the additions to her house. Of course, there's always her imposter we snagged from the nursing home, but she's pretty damned agreeable. Probably won't object to suddenly having a duplex. Won't even remember, really."

"Yeah, but that Social Security woman will," Fiona bit her lip before nibbling on another cracker. "And what if that lady dies before four more months is up?"

Thom found himself staring again, "Okay...uh, I feel complicit enough in all this now to say, 'huh?' and be able to get away with it."

"My dad was on a coke binge with his grandmother's sister when Lip and I were, like, nine and five and she died and he buried her in the backyard, took over her house for us to live in and started cashing her Social Security checks. He told us she was living in a nursing home in Wisconsin. Fucking bastard."

"Wait, your great-grandmother's sister was doing coke? Was she suicidal?"

Fiona risked giving him a slightly annoyed look, "How the hell should we know? Doesn't matter anyway, the point is that Dad never told anybody she was dead and we had to come up with some crazy plan after Social Security started getting wise as to how old she should have been by now - ninety-two - and came to check stuff out. Since we didn't exactly have houses coming out of our asses at the time, we had to do something, quick."

"Are you guys' lives just...cleaning up the shit your dad leaves in his wake?"

"Yes," both Lip and Fiona said without hesitation and Kev joined in, raising his hand. "Handily paid babysitter, here. Hell, I should be collecting taxes on a lot of those bastards _in addition_to my income."

"That you can't actually do yourself," Lip raised an eyebrow and Kev flipped him off. "I said I was sorry, alright? I didn't know it was about Frank bein' missing on one of his Twelve Days of Christmas or I'd've just let you have the damned phone, no questions asked, okay?"

"What about the toaster or showers?" V asked, smirking, and Kev rolled his eyes.

"Look, I know I bitch, I moan, alright? But I told you, you bastard Gallaghers are the only family I've got and if you can't bitch at your family, who the hell can you?"

"Hey," Lip smirked then, "We're not bastards, we know perfectly well who our father is...well, five of us, anyway. Ian's still up in the air unless our uncle concedes to some kind of paternity test, but he's still a Gallagher and our brother/cousin so it almost doesn't even count."

"I can't believe Monica slept with Frank's brother," Fiona moaned and Kev snorted, "I'm more on the Frank has a twin that's willing to shoot the living shit out of him part of the deal, myself - not that I can't completely understand. And don't forget, _Nana_Gallagher's doin' twenty to life for that meth lab explosion. Hey, how is she anyway?"

"She says the food sucks, but the pussy's pretty great," Lip returned handily and, this time, everyone else stared at him in varying shades of unease.

"Can we just..forget I ever asked?" Kev pleaded, but Lip chuckled, "Some questions can't be unasked, Kev, you know that."

"That's as bad as your dad asking me what the age of consent in Illinois is, like I fuckin' know."

Lip's face closed, but - Thom noticed - he didn't say anything else except, "Fucking fathers."

"Is this anything I need to know and/or pay bail on?" Fiona asked uneasily and Kev raised his palms and answered, "Didn't ask. Turned around and walked the fuck away."

"To your everlasting credit. Anyway, no, it's not," Lip said quietly, ignoring Fiona's probing looks in response. "Look, if we're not going to the hospital right now, I'm going for a smoke."

"Hide the stash when you're done," Fiona acquiesced and decided to rest some more for a little while.

Lip turned and left out the back door and everyone else found themselves rather surprised when Thom followed him, but - again - no one commented.

_...Say a prayer for me 'cause I can barely breathe, I'm suffering and I can't take it..._

Thom clomped out into the yard behind the houses to find Lip leaning against an old VW bus, smoking what was apparently a joint, though in the surrounding weather, he wasn't certain until he was standing next to him and could clearly smell the fumes.

Instead of a lecture, however, Thom felt it'd be more productive to simply get to the point. "Your father slept with an underage girl. Someone you know."

"She's not underage. She's my age, which is the age of consent, but it doesn't fucking matter because what she_is_...is the girl I'm in love wth, but..." Lip forced himself to stop, taking another drag and offering the joint to Thom, who politely declined.

"You said he was completely lacking in anything approaching morals, but this..."

"Karen - that's her name. She told me everything, it just...hurts to be reminded. What happened was that her asshole father took her to this mental circle jerk where a bunch of other asshole so-called Christian fathers demeaned their daughters for fucking sport. He put her on the spot and she basically had to divulge her entire sexual history - or as much of it as she could before he called her a 'whore' in front of a room full of people. To me, this wasn't...this wasn't that bad, you know? I'm used to fucking Frank Gallagher, shithead extraordinaire, but apparently somewhere in that cesspool of a brain of his, Sheila, that's Karen's mom, says he's proud as shit of all of us.

"I have no idea why, but whatever. Karen's father doesn't think shit of either her or her mother and she spent years watching him openly degrade her mother and flip back and forth between acting like he loved her and not giving her the time of fucking day. That Purity Ball..."

"Was the last straw."

Lip nodded, taking a last drag before putting the joint out between his fingers and tucking it into his coat pocket. He exhaled a great deal of smoke before glancing upward at the sky. "Karen totally lost it. She ditched school for more than a week, staying down in her basement - which is a whole 'nother story - and went and got this piercing from her nose to her ear and the word **WHORE**tattooed on her forearm.

"Then, last but not least, my dad comes in - his disability checks were cut off and he went to find a way to injure himself to get them back. He put a nail through his hand and the docs at the clinic fixed him up and gave him Oxy and Percocet. Needless to say, he was beyond plastered when he got back to Sheila's house."

"Oh, God."

Lip snorted, "See, Karen thought up what she considered at the time to be the perfect plan. Hurt her asshole father and hurt me - I more or less confirmed the 'whore' theory because - again - I didn't think she should care. I was only trying to help, but I guess it proved I didn't know her nearly as well as I would still like. But hurt Eddie Jackson and hurt me.

"What she didn't count on was hurting her mother, whom she loves even though she hates the agoraphobia her mom has, so all she can do is pray her mother never sees that viral video. She taped the whole thing and released it on the internet so she actually screwed herself out of a future. She'll be right here with us for as long as we are, though I guess it's the only thing that can be done.

"Her father damaged her as much as Frank has us. Sheila's trying, she always has, but there's only so much she can do. Karen couldn't take it anymore, not after being dragged into a public arena, per se, and branded by her own father. She was spinning out of control after that. She basically..."

"Raped your father."

"Legally, yes." Lip's voice was flat again and Thom was willing to bet his face was, as well. "When I found out, I stole another car - your brother taught me well - and ran my father down with it and then beat the shit out of him. This was after we made love and I told her I loved her, but then she...what's breaking up with someone you're not officially with? But I felt like dying and when I found out what happened between Karen and my father, all I saw was red. I hit him, I didn't care where.

"After he got up from the car, I started punching him everywhere I could reach and called him a 'motherfucker'. Karen told me he told Sheila some guys he owed money to were the ones who tuned him up. He didn't say anything about either of us, I guess, to his credit. Difficult to give my shithead father credit for anything, but there is that. Still, he came back to the house the night before last, plastered as usual. Fiona said 'fuck it' and I didn't want to tell her about any of that. I just...every time I see him, though, I just want to hit him harder."

Thom found himself stunned, "I'd've thought the car would be enough."

Lip merely shrugged, "I hit his thigh, knocked him on his ass. Stunned and bruised him, but not enough to break anything or cause permanent damage. I guess if I were a better person, I'd feel bad, but...he's left us to starve, he's used our names on credit cards, he's stolen food out of our house that isn't even ours. He's been sopping drunk my entire life. Carl's principal is a prick, but the son of a bitch is still right about one thing: we don't have parents. Frank and Monica have never been there for any of us, not even Fiona when she was the only one.

"She and I had to play Frank and Monica's roles when Carl was almost expelled, but Jimmy was the only reason the principal didn't. Gave him some prime weed as a bribe or some shit. But that shouldn't have needed to happen. He was...I don't know what Karen was doing in Carl's school, much less with Frank - maybe she knew I was there and wanted to see what was going on, I don't fucking know. I didn't speak to her for a week about that, but she told me it was strictly a business deal. Business deals in exchange for fucking parenting. The list just goes on and fucking _on_.

"But...Frank came here to beg for my forgiveness a couple of nights later, after I'd spoken to Karen and we just laid everything out between us. We can't be anything else, not like I wanted, not now...maybe, probably not ever. But she wanted to say she was sorry and hoped I didn't hate her. I...tried, I really did. But I can't. Fucking fathers."

Thom nodded, understanding very well what Lip meant, even if from a different perspective. "What happened when your father came here to try and talk to you?"

"I pissed on him out of our bedroom window."

Thom inhaled sharply, his throat stinging from the cold winter air, but managed not to look over at Lip, who was staring down at their shoes.

"What happened with that?"

"He quoted a lot of stuff from the Bible at me - about forgiveness, you know, from when he was a kid and still a normal, decent person? I knew most of it already, I took Catechism classes, too, after all. When he finished, I started pissing and he bitched about it at first and flinched away, but then stepped back into it.

"I guess he finally figured out how much he'd hurt all of us. Fiona doesn't know about it. The argument she had with him this morning was about her finding out he's still using Liam's name for credit cards. She took the card that came in the mail and cut it up and Frank started to complain, but then I came in the room, so he just let Fi yell at him.

"He turned and left again because Fiona brought up how the last time he was living here, he head-butted Ian in the face and she said she'd be damned if she was going to give him another opportunity to hurt any of us. She was planning to call the Better Business Bureau tomorrow and she and I were going to get this all straightened out, but then she started puking and that all kind of got derailed."

"I've got to make some calls, myself, we can do all that after we go see my brother. I need to take some time off work, so it'll be fine. So you're still...whatever you were with Karen? Jimmy told me about you two. Hell, I almost got as much information about you as I did about Fiona, except Jimmy's just...well, between you and Ian, it's obvious you're the more outgoing, so I guess they just haven't talked very much. I have an idea about that, though."

"You're just full of them. And, here, Fiona calls _me_'The Gallagher Escape Plan'."

Thom chuckled, "No, no, it's just...long-term hospital patients like to be visited. Ian could go visit with Jimmy and keep him up to date on everything going on with the family and read to him when he's in pain, help distract him from it."

"The family? Fiona's right, you two have Velcro'ed yourselves to us."

"Fuck off," Thom said quite politely and, for the first time in over a week, Lip outright laughed.

_...I was once a loyal lover whose lips did never seek another's, but now each love's more like a match...A blinding spark that burns out fast..._

**...TBC...**


	6. Quit Pretending You Don't Even Know Me

**Mirror Image...**  
><em>By Angelfirenze<em>

**Disclaimer: **Abbott, Paul, prod. "Shameless (US)." Shameless. Showtime. SHO, 27 Mar. 2011. Television. The Decemberists. "The Crane Wife.". Capitol, 2006. Snow Patrol. "Eyes Open.". Polydor, 2006.

**Summary: **"Um," she chuckled nervously, "Yeah. Yeah, uh...I mean, I haven't done a test or anything yet, but I'm pretty sure. You...are you okay with that?"

**Timeline: **Post-'Father Frank, Full of Grace'.

**Notes, First: **Finally, an idea! This one seems a bit short, though, because a lot has happened and I'm just now getting back into the groove of writing, in general. I honestly can't stand that I forgot how much it helps.

**Notes, Second:** For those just tuning in, this will obviously deviate completely from what is now season two. I'm_totally_okay with that, I find.

**Notes, Third :**I've decided Fiona and Lip Gallagher were the only children not born in Chicago, but they moved there before Lip could talk. I have to explain Emmy Rossum's accent somehow, damn it, plus it goes along with Jeremy Allen White being from New York, too.

**Notes, Fourth: **I rewatched the snippet where Debbie goes to Jimmy's house and realized their family calls his brother 'Chip', which I am not fond of at all. I've decided 'Charles' is his middle name or something like that, just so I can get that out of the way, too.

Part VI: Quit Pretending You Don't Even Know Me... - James

By the time they finally left Kev and Veronica's house, both Lip and Fiona's spirits were much higher. Thom was gently telling Fiona some of the things she was going to have to either cut back on or stop altogether, pointedly eyeing the cigarette by now in her hand.

Fiona looked down at it and sighed, "Shit. I..." She gave her head a shake and gave the almost whole butt to Lip for him to finish and Thom sighed, instead looking directly at him. "Don't smoke around her if you can help it. And no more drinking, either, please, Fiona."

Fiona nodded morosely again, blowing the last of the smoke out of her body and mustering herself for the long haul. "I won't. Um..."

"Ian and I will stop, too," Lip promised, even going to chuck the butt in the first trash can he saw before catching himself and snubbing it out first.

"Now that would have been..." Fiona found herself smiling and Lip halted and glared at her. "If you even mention Frank..."

"You can't do anything to me, I'm gonna be - " she finished the sentence silently, 'somebody's mother!' Then she waggled her hands behind her ears and stuck out her tongue.

"I think Deb has more maturity than you, personally," Lip mocked and Fiona snorted, "I think 'fuck you'."

Thom sighed and shook his head in mild bafflement as they began walking again and he suddenly realized, "Shit. I...I have no idea where the hell I parked my car...um, how long ago was that?"

Fiona and Lip were now both holding in laughter. Lip helped, "Three days, genius. And your truck's across the street there. I think the one with the ticket on it, if I remember it correctly. Black GMC, right?"

Thom's face became flat, his eyes hooded, and he blew out a harsh breath. "Fuck. I was even more tired than I thought. At least I don't think I completely blocked a hydrant or they probably would have towed it by now. Look, we'll get the stupid ticket taken care of after we go see Jim. This is more important than something I can take care of quickly. Besides, if you're going to actually visit with him, I can go while you're doing that and then come back."

"Sweet," Lip agreed, but Fiona cut in. "Shut up, asshole, I can speak for myself."

"What is it with you and Ian and forgetting that I'm the brains of this outfit?"

Fiona resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead ate another cracker, trying purposely to spray Lip with crumbs, "Should we put up a statue? One of you, what, pissing on Dad?"

Lip brought his arms down from covering his face, "How do you know about that?"

Fiona put on an affected air, "I know all, that's _my_contribution to this supposed outfit."

"Bullshit."

Fiona cackled, "I was baking chicken tenders when I heard him talking to you and then, all of a sudden, I saw this stream of piss come falling down on him. I almost forgot about the chicken altogether. I wondered what the hell that was all about but then I remembered when you punched him at The Alibi and how you wouldn't help us distract him from beer. You hate him."

Lip rested his hand on the driver's side backseat door handle, gripping it hard, "I...I just...he just..."

Fiona came back around from the other side of the backseat and hugged him, wishing she could stop him shaking just now and furious with herself because she couldn't. "I know. It's okay, I know."

"You don't, really. You can forgive his shit, let it go and get on with everything. I mean, you _have_ to, but I wish I could just put it out of my head and remember he's not _all_bad. I can't forget anymore and I think that pisses me off more than anything. I wish I could say that was him, too, but...he's our father, I'm supposed to love him and...God, Fiona, I...I think I'm starting not to love him anymore."

Fiona sniffled, hugging Lip harder even as Thom stepped back out of the car and watched uneasily as Lip suffered further.

"It's not your fault," Fiona insisted, running her hand over his hair and hugging him again. "You can't be everything. Hell, I can't either. We shouldn't have to. But you and I try. It's all we can do. You take care of Ian and I try to take care of you and it goes down and down.

"Liam's the only one who doesn't have to try but, I bet you anything, if he were in your place and you in his, he'd be trying just like all of us. But, well, I mean, we moved here - like - when I was three - "

"Uh, yeah, when you gonna lose that accent?"

"Will you fuck off, please? I'm tryin' to comfort you and you're givin' me shit."

Lip bit his lip and smiled, leaning back into Fiona's side and she continued, "So I was three when we moved here, but I mean, it had already started. Uncle Wyatt actually stayed awhile because he saw Monica had about as much mothering skills as she has feathers, but it was still the same shit. He taught me a bunch of stuff, I guess because he knew I'd need it. When you got old enough, I taught it to you, and then you taught Ian when he got old enough. Debbie's...actually kind of freaky. I almost don't want her to actually learn anything because she's..."

"Delusional."

"If she heard us say any of this, she'd kick you in the balls and punch me in the face - or try or something. Maybe."

"My money's on running away. Remember, most of us have at some point or another."

Fiona snorted, "Yeah. Look, um, we're probably just waiting for Thom to get another ticket...SHIT!"

Fiona physically stopped herself from whirling around, instead turning slowly, and stared wide-eyed at Thom, who was now examining the ticket with further intent. "Yeah, Markovitch wrote this one," he confirmed and she sagged backward against the car.

"Maybe it was a coincidence and he wrote it before he knew you were here."

"Yeah, let's hope for..." Thom made a face. "What am I saying, fuck that."

Fiona blinked and looked back at Lip, unable to keep from grinning. "I'm thinking we're a corrupting influence..."

Lip cackled, finally letting go of Fiona as she returned to her side of the car and they both got into the backseat. "Lip, you don't have to..."

"Shut up, Fiona. Thom, if you can remember where the hospital is - " Thom flipped him off and neither Lip nor Fiona could help laughing again. "Kindly get us there as fast as you can. You're right, the ticket and the shithead can wait."

_...But, I remember you and I will relate to you how our histories interweave..._

"Yer...pre...nant?" The words were slurred and Jimmy could only open his eyes as far as the morphine drip sedating him would allow, but Fiona was still astonished to see the utter _joy_in his words as he whispered to her after she'd managed to stutter out her surprise revelation.

"Um," she chuckled nervously, "Yeah. Yeah, uh...I mean, I haven't done a test or anything yet, but I'm pretty sure. You...are you okay with that?"

It was then that Jimmy smiled rather lopsidedly and giggled as much as he could manage and Thom raised an eyebrow in her direction, but Fiona still wasn't sure.

"I mean, you don't have to - "

"We gon'...a baby...Tomm-Tommy, we gon' ha' a baby...Lip...'aby..."

"I know, you idiot, we heard just fine," his brother assured. But Thom was grinning widely and so was Lip, just now. "So hurry up and get better because you've got fatherly duties to fulfill."

Jimmy smiled as widely as he could manage and tried to raise his hands in Fiona's direction. Starting to cry again, Fiona came forward and helped Jimmy place his strongest palm on her abdomen.

"Baby," he mumbled, happiness radiating off him so strongly Fiona was unable to keep from crying even harder.

"Our baby," she agreed, finally fully breaking down and reaching over to hug him as much as she could.

"Wheeeeee," Jimmy cheered into her neck and Fiona giggled while still crying.

"You are so fucked up. Do your physical therapy, asshole, so you can come home and be with us again."

"I not asshole, dey asshole...hurt..."

"I know it does, but you've gotta do it," Fiona sniffled again, glancing at a suddenly much less cheerful Thom. "It's the only way you'll get better. When they're doin' your PT, think of our baby."

"Think you. Think baby." Jimmy sighed, sliding into sleep again before he could help it and Fiona sniffled again, this time managing to hold back tears as she straightened and brushed her hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna fuckin' clean Tony's clock," she bit out quietly.

"Right there with you." Thom forced himself not to whimper even as he wanted to cry, as well.

_...More than anything I want to see you, girl...Take a glorious bite out of the whole world..._

...TBC...


End file.
